


Avionic Systems 413

by jbae654



Category: Bulma/vegeta - Fandom, Dragonball, Vegebul - Fandom, Vegeta/bulma - Fandom
Genre: Day1TheStation, Day2TheControlCenter, F/M, Galactic Affairs, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Smutfest2020, The Prince and the Heiress, VegetaxBulma, morally questionable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbae654/pseuds/jbae654
Summary: Written for The Prince and The Heiress Smutfest 2020.Theme: Galactic AffairsBulma and Vegeta engage in a forbidden dance of taboos and lines better not crossed.
Relationships: VegeBul - Relationship, Vegeta/Bulma
Comments: 88
Kudos: 231





	1. Chapter 1

Prompt 1: The Station

* * *

Clasping the pencil tighter Bulma focused on drawing straight and precise lines, completely tuning out the ongoing lecture for Avionic Systems 413, it wasn’t that she was not interested - she had simply covered this chapter before with a private tutor. She also needed to desperately distract herself from the man holding the lecture.

Her pencil scratched across the paper as her fellow students hurriedly scribbled notes, trying to follow the presentation and Mr. Oujis neat and orderly writing on the smartboard. He was flesh made sin and for the first time in her academic career, Bulma was glad that the front and center spot had already been taken when she arrived at the lecture hall. Perhaps it was the fact that she had spent her entire youth in the presence of old men- _old and stuffy_ \- but genius men, that this particular individual made her imagination run wild. Men like her father, the brilliant scientist and founder of Capsule Corp., men like her private teachers and tutors that nurtured her sharp intellect and praised her academic strengths - men like _that_ were nothing like _him_. They weren't sculpted like sun-kissed greek gods, their button-ups did not strain to wrap their brawn, their pants did not traverse over chiseled glutes - their mere existence did not make her pussy tingle with senseless need. 

She was brilliant - but protected, perhaps even sheltered. There had been little to no childhood friends, only heavy machinery, scientific equations, intricate laboratory equipment and a never-ending fountain of knowledge at her fingertips. Now, at 18, she was attending her first _real_ University, her first real school experience, and everything she had known about men came crashing down the morning Professor Ouji walked into the lecture hall, all dark and brooding, in a tight dark button-up making her squeeze together her tights before she even really knew what she was doing. Briefly, for a fleeting moment she had considered to just scrap the University dream - to go back home and continue her studies there, but, she had fought her father tooth and nail to finally let her attend a genuine school, with real, _ordinary_ , people. These sudden urges around a man more than 10 years her senior would not dissuade her.

So whenever she sat in the front row, close to the wall - _not_ enjoying the great view this angle provided of a certain someone's shapely ass - Bulma Briefs did everything she could to not look in the direction of the board. His strong jaw and high cheekbones made a heat burn in her neck and cheeks like she had not experienced before, it made her stomach squeeze and her lips dry - whatever strange power this man wielded made her nervous. Professor Ouji conjured up fantasies of sweaty bodies in tangled sheets, making her want to mewl and whimper as she squirmed in her seat - or on her bed. 

The class had fallen silent and chancing a quick glance at her closest neighbor she saw a few other students furiously scribble on their papers, risking a glance at the board to ensure she hadn’t missed anything vital she was met with a stern dark gaze. Mr. Ouji was sitting at his desk, leaned back in his chair, regarding her openly with deep eyes that glued her to the spot, unbidden her mind strayed, wondering what he looked like under his shirt, what his cock felt like in her hands and Bulma felt heat creep up her neck, a blush surely spreading across her cheeks, but she couldn't will herself to break eye contact. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he quirked a strong brow and nodded to the board behind him, it proudly displayed an assignment and timmer. 

The blue-head scrambled to flip to an empty page and began writing - 1 minute, 30 seconds - _she had this!_

15 minutes later she was flittering out the lecture hall with her peers, almost to the door at the very top of the steps when she heard her name being called.

“Ms. Briefs - a word please”

His voice was dark and stern, and strange tingle shooting down her spine and building as a low throb between her legs as she shakily turned around, watching the tops of her sneakers descend the stairs towards his desk - now alone with him in the big hall. 

“Professor Oujii..” her voice sounded too soft even to her own ears, forcing herself to make eye contact and praying to Kami that her indecent thoughts weren't stamped in bright red on her forehead, she watched him calmly organize his lecture notes before filling them back into his bag.

“Are avionic systems so boring that you prefer to draw instead? Perhaps the art department would be a better fit?”

His tone was ridiculing, annoyance only thinly concealed, he was passionate about what he taught, she could tell even by how little she tried to pay attention. This man was smart and gifted, dedicated to the subject - his lectures notorious for being hard but rich in knowledge.

“No - I actually quite enjoy your class” at that he raised an eyebrow, regarding her directly, the darkness of his eyes making the hairs on the back of her neck raise in arousal, she wanted to squirm, instead she pressed on, “I have covered this chapter before, so I was multitasking on a sketch. I didn't mean to be rude”. 

Bulma bit her lower lip, trying to ignore the hammering of her heart as his eyes seemed to scrutinize her, sweeping over her face and taking in her appearance while she got lost in the way his button-up hugged his chest, delicate buttons struggling to contain well-formed muscles wrapped in olive-toned skin. As the moment dragged on and he did not reply she considered leaving, traitorous feet seemed cemented to the floor and just when she had finally wrestled her lower limbs into submission again, he spoke, more melodious this time.

“Can I see it?”

“..can you see what?” confusion spreading across her soft features.

“Whatever it is you are drawing that holds your attention more than my class”

His lips quirked at the small jest and Bulma nodded on watched in bewilderments as her own hands produced her sketchpad from her backpack. _What was she doing?!_ While flipping through the pages to get to the most recent sketch her professor used the time to step closer, rounding the desk to come to a stop directly next to her. The heat of his skin seeming to seep through the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, soaking and penetrating her every pore. Again, she was nervous, this particular vision of hers she hadn’t shared with anyone before. He leaned closer, his elbow grazing her own causing the small hairs of her skin to stand on end. Goosebumps spreading across her flesh like wildfire.

“It’s a space station” she clarified after a few heartbeats of silence, his eyes drawing over the lines of her imagination, “it’s in the sketching phase, it doesn’t even have a name yet, so it’s just _the station_ ” she added lamely trying to fil the silence to calm her hammering heart, eyes drew up to see the expression on his face, instead, she was met with a pair of dark orbs already intently watching her.

This close she could see how long and thick his lashes were, the very top button of his shirt undone giving a glimpse of smooth caramel skin, her tongue tingled with the peculiar urge to lick him there, Mr. Ouji interrupted her train of thought, “Gorgeous”.

“Huh?”

“Your space station, it is a gorgeous concept” he clarified, eyes still threatening to drown her.

Casting her own pools of blue back to her creation, she smiled at the unexpected compliment “Thank you Professor Ouji”

“Vegeta” he insisted, drawing her eyes back up this his own, her gaze racking over his strong, broad shoulders and plump bottom lip. _What was happening?!_ Bulma smiled softly, aware that they were all of a sudden toeing a very dangerous line. She was his student and he was her professor, he wasn’t _that_ old, one of the younger faculty members - still it was wrong. _Very wrong._

Professors didn’t stare at their students' lips like he did, didn’t stand close enough that she could smell their scent, the rich fragrances of his cologne carried by the soft undertones of his soap. Despite herself, she accepted his offer.

“Vegeta”

His name rolling off her lips in reverence and she watched as his gaze dipped lower, drinking in her shapely curves, before settling on her face and giving a soft nod, pleased with her acquisition. Against her will she shifted closer, her thigh brushing his, fingers gripping her sketchbook tightly as her own heartbeat rose in her ears, cheeks surely burning bright red by now, they were so close, she cloud...did she want to? _Did he?_

Hollering laughter floated down the hall towards the entrance of the lecture hall, effectively ending Bulma's internal struggle and breaking the spell between them. Vegeta turned away from her, rounding his desk while adjusting his pants and grabbing his bag while she hurriedly shoved her sketchbook away. She felt like she almost got caught doing something _very very wrong._ Something that could not only ruin her own reputation - or that of her family - but also end Vegeta's career.

As the first throngs of students filed into the hall for a different lecture, their eyes caught again across his desk. She wanted to say something, anything really, after all, she just almost had kiss her professor! Thankfully Vegeta saved her by breaking the silence between them first.

“Office Hours are Thursday afternoon - you can come by to show me your progress”.

With that Vegeta seemed to turn on his heels and began the short climb to the exit doors, Bulma followed, a few steps behind, a scarcely concealed grin spreading across her face, excitement pounding against her ribcage, as she most certainly _not_ ogled his well-defined backside while ascending the stairs. 

* * *

_to be continued...._


	2. The Control Center

Prompt 2: The Control Center

* * *

Her small knuckles wrapped against the pristine white door of Professor Oujis Office, it was at the end of the hallway, a large glass front composing the outer wall allowing magnificent views over the college campus from this 4th story high vantage point. Over the past few days, she had argued endlessly with herself, knocking on this door, accepting his invitation, it would change their relationship for good - it was dangerous and wrong, but Bulma loved excitement. Ever since she had been a little girl she loved chasing the thrill, and what was more thrilling than crossing a social boundary at the age of 18?! So here she stood, on a Thursday afternoon, her nerves making her palms moist and her conscious whispering to her that this particular kind of rebellion was going  _ too  _ far, as she waited for Prof. Ouji to answer.

She was greeted only by silence. For a moment she hesitated, considered turning around and studying for a calculus class instead when she heard it;

“Come in”

Gripping the door handle she pushed the door open, disregarding her inner voice whispering that her father would be so disappointed - Bulma was simply too fascinated. 

The office was more spacious than she had imagined, bookshelf lined the walls to her left and right while at the center of the room stood a big desk, Vegeta was surrounded by papers, no doubt grading an exam or assignment and the late afternoon sun filtered through a large window behind him, drawing fiery patterns of auburn into his dark upswept hair. For the blink of a second Bulma could have sworn that he looked surprised to see her, but the expression was gone before she could further analyze it. Discomfiture settled in her stomach and she looked away, anywhere but the way his gray dress shirt clung to his form, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks she grabbed the strap of her backpack tighter, a familiar throbbing returning to the junction between her tights, choosing to settle on his name,

“Vegeta”, the corners of his mouth pulled into a smirk as the syllables of his name rolled off her lips, and emboldened she pressed on, “ would you still like to see more?”

He didn't answer her, and Bulma found herself missing the deep tone of his voice, instead, he nodded and stood, indicating for her to take a seat in one of the two plush and comfortable club chairs across from his desk. While she was pulling her sketchbook from her backpack he rounded his secretary, muscles brushing against the fabric of his clothing and she watched in fascination as his dark jeans stretched around the most sculpted ass she had ever laid eyes on as he lowered himself into the chair next to her. His eyes found her with an amused expression dancing over his face - Vegeta had caught her staring - and Bulma cleared her throat in the hopes to swallow the embarrassment. 

“Let’s see”  _ nonchalance personified.  _

His voice helped break the wall of equivocation and uncertainty that had slowly been building inside of the blue-head after being caught ogling his ass so openly. She found herself angling her body closer to him in the cozy chair, Vegeta mimicked her movements until their knees touched softly, allowing her to balance her sketchbook between them. The physical contact felt thrilling and forbidden, electricity crawling up her own skin, goosebumps concealed only by tight denim. Carefully flipping back the pages Bulma revealed her newest sketch, a version of the station, cut open to display the inner workings, proudly and in great detail depicting the control center of her brainchild. 

The student held her breath as Vegeta leaned forward in his seat, eyes tracking over the graphite lines, taking in all the details she had been obsessing over for the last week - nervousness and anxiousness clawed in her stomach as she waited for his response. This man had been published in a variety of papers exploring gravity control propulsion systems in the field of aerospace engineering - he was not a paid tutor tasked with encouraging her silly dreams - his honest opinion  _ oddly  _ mattered to her.  _ She found herself wanting him to like her ideas.  _

“This is impressive” his voice was low, like dark gravel over velvet, his eyes never leaving her illustration, “your linework is impressive - is that freehand? Or do you use a ruler?”

Biting her lip she looked back at her lines, they never seemed to be as straight as she wanted them to be, surely he was mocking her?

“No ruler - I am still practicing” she whispered, her voice suddenly demure as she felt Vegeta's dark gaze on her, causing blood to immediately rush to her face.  _ Gods - why was she so bad at flirting? _

“So, Bulma” her name from his lips sounded like a forbidden spell, pulling her deeper, “tell me about this” he gestured to her sketchbook “project and idea of yours”. Vegeta reclined in the chair as he spoke, causing his knee to press more firmly against her own and Bulma found her eyes wandering down his torso were his shirt disappeared into his pants, Vegeta's hips looked trimmed, she bit her lip wondering what it would feel like to wrap her legs around them.

Taking a deep breath she pried her eyes away, deciding to instead focus on his arm, draped casually over the back of the club chair, rolled up sleeves exposing the muscles of his forearms and the intricate pattern of his blood vessels leading back to his heart. Ignoring the moisture building between her thighs she pressed forward, telling him in great detail how she hoped to one day take humanity to space. A lofty idea and project that had been met with skepticism at all fronts - so the current drawings, not yet schematics, of her dreams were a private, most treasured, part-time. 

Silence hung between them after she had finished, the setting sun drawing a fiery spectacle in the early evening sky that freckled the office with dancing reflections, Bulma almost startled when Vegeta suddenly grabbed her hand, large and warm, his fingers wrapped around her palm in a soothing and protective embrace, her pale, milky skin a stark contrast to the sun-kissed olive tone of his own. Her stomach squeezed as her heart pounded in reckless excitement at the taboo touch. 

“Anything we can dream - we can create” he mused out loud, eyes focused on the sky outside the window while he clasped her hand reassuringly. An unmatched feeling of comfort and acceptance washed over Bulma, even a spark of joy at her idea being so openly accepted, high on these feelings she did her best to wrap her own fingers around his hand. 

When his eyes found hers, they were dark and hungry, the air between them suddenly seemed charged with something that made her skin prickle and her lips dry, heat pooling low in her stomach as she watched Vegeta's gaze drop to her lips before leaning closer, his hand drawing her toward him, closing the distance between them in the chairs. 

His breath ghosted over her face and she could feel the blood rushing in her ears as they hovered on the brink of the forbidden. Her eyes traced over his features, drinking in high cheekbones and regal nose before meeting his dark gaze, he was waiting for her to make a decision, she could pull back from the edge, or she could jump and break all the rules.

Blue oceans settled on his lips as here eyes fluttered closed and Bulma softly pressed her lips to his - taking the plunge.

Large warm palms cradled her face as Vegeta took the reigns, his lips softer than she had dared to imagine, he gently pressed his mouth to hers. Drawn out soft, almost innocent kisses slowly turned more heated, as they both let go of control, his tongue softly licking her lips, asking for entrance before tangling with her own. He was so much more experienced than any boy she kissed before, precise and controlled, not sloppy or overeager, and Bulma keenly followed every move he made, every swipe of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, every soft suckling and playful swirl. The sketchbook was long forgotten on the floor. 

The blue-head rubbed her tighs together as his tongue played with her own, teeth delicately grazed her lips in a playful motion before sucking on her bottom lip, Bulma couldn't help the moan that escaped her, her overactive mind already conjuring up the possible feel of his mouth between her legs, her fingers in his hair - she was throbbing for his touch all over. The desire to straddle his legs and rock against his thigh for some much-needed relief was burning in her mind.

By the time they broke apart, lips swollen and foreheads tenderly resting against each other, Bulma was sure her panties were soaked, heat and pressure pooling between her legs, desperately wishing for relief. She watched Vegeta lick his own lips, chuckling softly before the cold reality of what they had just done, of what he had  _ allowed _ to happen, seemed to wash over him and he pulled back, leaving Bulma shivering in the sudden absence of his heat, the expression on his face serious.

“I should not have lost control like this - you are my student”.

* * *

_to be continued ...._


	3. The Brig

Prompt 3: The Brig

* * *

His fingers raked through his hair as he paced up and down the short length of his office, something akin to panic was mounting in Bulma's chest at the swift turn of events. Vegeta and his seeming understanding of her dream had felt like a safe haven. 

So far, University had been harder than expected, finding friends was though when you breezed through senior courses at the age of 18, already having a Ph.D. in mechanical engineering in your back pocket. Finding this man, this sin made flesh, intelligent hunk of a guy to share meaningful pieces of her future with had felt exciting - only heightened in sensation by the age gap that very clearly separated them, and, the obvious taboo that he was her professor. _Not to mention the fantasies he inspired in her late at night. Fantasies in which she begged him for cock, in which he made her shudder and fall apart under his touch._

“This can not happen again Bulma” his voice low, molars grinding too hard - he was angry.

She was still sitting in the club chair, incapable to move from the roller-coaster of emotions that had transpired, anger rising in her gut at the rejection, “You don’t get to be mad at me!”. They had both taken the leap _together._

Perhaps her reaction was childish, he was right, after all, they shouldn't have done what they did, they shouldn’t have kissed, shouldn’t have touched, should never have started this forbidden dance. 

Hearing the anger in her voice Vegeta stopped his pacing, his eyes found hers with sobering intensity as he came and crouched in front of her, large warm palms encircled her much smaller ones, although she was looking down at him Bulma felt like a small child under his intense scrutiny. 

“How old are you?”

The bluehead lowered her eyes, unable to meet the darkest pools she had ever seen, admitting her age would only divide them further, instead, she chose to focus on the rough feel of his palms, the thickness of his fingers - Vegeta gave her hand a squeeze while making a noise of frustration in his throat, reluctantly she lifted her eyes again.

“18” a whispered confession.

“I’m 12 years older than you Bulma” a bitter chuckle followed, but he did not let go of her hands, “I’m your professor. I am in a position of power over your - not just because I grade your exams - if word of this ever got out I would lose my job. ``

Of course, Vegeta was right, Bulma bit her lip, eyes lowering to her lap and their still joint hands when he spoke again.

“And then there are the things they would say about you, people would make horrible assumption about the type of person you are,'' there was a lump forming in her throat - _she would be a slut, a whore, a dumb girl screwing her hot professor for passing grades -_ fingers curling tighter around his rough palms, “I can’t let that happen to you, so _this_ can't be”.

Bulma couldn’t quell the petulant anger that was quickly bubbling inside her, of course, he was right, she knew that, after all, hard facts were the solid foundation of science that her life had been built on. But, aside from that, her life had also been erected on loneliness, isolation from peers, social pressure and ridicule and the constant worry that every new friend had an agenda up their sleeve. People saw her for the Zeni her account held, the trips she could pay for, the lifestyle she could provide - not the person _she_ was.

The man before her, with his upswept hair and sun-kissed skin, was none of that. He didn't isolate or seclude her, he didn’t expect anything from her that he did not expect from the 30-ish other students in his lectures. The only agenda he had was wanting to fuck her brains out if their situation was different. And she really wanted him to - their current social roles be dammed. She wanted to break the rules with this man, spread her legs for him, explore pleasure with his body and mewl on his cock. 

Bulma Briefs was not used to being told no. And this? This she wanted! She wanted to know if his cock was as defined and delicious as his ass, she wanted to know what it would feel like to have his soft lips pressed against her pussy, she wanted to know if he growled when he came - most of all she just finally wanted to have sex. _With him._

Vegeta grabbing her by her chin interrupted her train of thought, he was still crouched before her, guiding her gaze to meet his eyes, likely to make sure she understood what he had just told her, instead she saw the faintest hint of conflict in his eyes. He was as spellbound by her as she was by him - in comparison to her, Vegeta was simply more disciplined.

She licked her lips, watching as his gaze followed her tongue, his expression turning hungry and dark, the grip on her chin tightening, his tone deceptively relaxed when he spoke again;

“Tell me you understand Bulma”

“I understand” she whispered, heat pooling between her legs as she held his gaze, “I have to be a good girl”.

She watched with rapt fascination as his pupils dilated like he was high till she couldn't tell where his irises began or ended, the air between them hummed with unwaveringly mounting tension, neither able to look away from the other until the seal of her professor's discipline cracked. 

Large strong hands pulled her hips down into his lap against an achingly hard cock, his lips molding to hers with bruising force as Bulma moaned at the rough handling, the hardness of his cock pressing against her where she needed him most through the fabric of their jeans. Her fingers found their way into his hair and it took Bulma a moment to realize that he was off the floor and had her up against the wall, pressing himself against her with desperate force. Large hands clutched her ass, lips sucking on her delicate neck with expert care as she whimpered against the onslaught of sensory overload. 

For a short panicked moment she tried to remember if she had locked the door behind her, or if somebody could discover them in this compromising position, but then his teeth scraped against the column of her neck and she lost her train of thought. 

Enjoying the heat of his mouth over hers, the press of his body against her own and the jolt of pleasure that coursed through her each time his cock pressed against her just right. In a whirlwind of movement, Vegeta set her down, spinning her around and folding her over the back of one of the club chairs. He was already melting over her back, kissing her neck as his hands fought to tuck her jeans down - the reality of what was about to happen washed over Bulma.

“Stop, stop - Vegeta I haven’t done this before!” breathing still ragged.

He only chuckled, playfully nipping her shoulder, “Neither have I" rubbing himself against her through the fabric of their pants, "always wanted to try though”.

Bulma grabbed his hands as best as she could in her bend over position, making him still, clearly, he had misunderstood her; “Vegeta,...That’s not what I meant. I haven’t...I mean...I...I’m a virgin”.

She could feel him go stiff before exhaling deeply; “ _Fuck Bulma_ ”.

The tension slipped from his body as he relaxed back over her, swearing in a language she had never heard before as he pulled her jeans back to a more proper position, hands smoothing over her sides as he kissed her neck, exhaling again. Despite the unforeseen discovery, he was still hard, Bulma could feel him pressed against her ass while he mouth at her neck, breathing deeply to compose himself. 

“We... I ...shouldn’t have...you should have told me”. 

Pulling her upright and turning around Bulma met his face, his eyes had lost their predatory glint and he was back to wrestling with himself for letting happen what had just transpired between them - _again_. 

Pressing her luck she softly pressed her lips to his, “It's okay... I want this. Just not here.”

“It shouldn’t happen here, or anywhere, not involving me - student/teacher, remember?” Vegeta protested, kissing her back nonetheless and Bulma was overjoyed at his actions - consequences be damned. 

It took more willpower than Bulma cared to admit, but she extracted herself from her professor and pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his desk, writing down her number and address before tucking it in the small breast pocket of his button-up. 

“I live here. It’s by the Japanese Gardens at the west end of campus - but _off_ -campus. Come Saturday. It will just be me and you, no teacher/student dynamic, no rules, no age - just us” lips hovering over his as she spoke, praying to Kami that she was being as seductive as the girls she saw in the movies. 

Vegeta scowled at her shallow dismissal of societal rules, the small note felt heavy and warm safely tucked away in the small pocket. He watched as Bulma collected her backpack, pert young ass sticking into the air as she picked-up her sketchbook, his hands itching to grab her hips and grind himself against her, desperate for relief, but before his mind could stray further she turned back around giving him a coy kiss on her way to his office door. Once in the door-frame, she lingered, a mischievous smirk tugging at her swollen lips as he raised his eyebrow at her in question.

“By the way - there is no brig on my station”.

With that, she was out the door and he was left alone standing in his office with a throbbing cock and a smoldering desire to risk his career. 

* * *

_to be continued ..._


	4. The Crew Quarters

Prompt 4: The Crew Quarters

* * *

It was late Saturday afternoon, she was sipping tea, deeply immersed in the newest issue of her favorite science magazine, doing her best to distract herself from the sting of rejection. Vegeta – no, her Professor – hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t called or texted either, and as Saturday was coming to an end Bulma mentally tried to accept the fact that no answer was an answer after all. She only hoped that things would not be embarrassing during the coming lectures as everyone across campus was gearing up for midterms.

A stern knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts, eyes having glazed over the words of the magazine as she had pondered the days ahead, hoping for the mailman to finally deliver a pair of cute winter boots she had ordered early for the fall season Bulma opened the door – only to be greeted by Vegeta. He stood at her door, wild hair partially tamed by the hood of his sport jacket, some martial arts logo printed on its right side, looking for all the world as if he had just come from the gym, but she could smell the soft wafting scent of soap – he had come here  _ after  _ working out. 

He looked exasperated. Obviously having lost the struggle with his inner discipline that had unquestionably told him better. For a short moment, Bulma felt self-conscious in her oversized cozy hoody and small shorts, but then she saw his eyes flicker down her legs and she stepped aside, closing the door after him.

"Welcome to my Crew Quarters" she joked as he walked further into her apartment, giving her a devilish smile of genuine amusement over his shoulder as he took in the view from her living room. 

She lived nice, especially for an 18-year-old with no source of income. The top story apartment of the complex she lived in afforded a nice view of the well-kept Japanese gardens on campus, her wrap-around corner balcony inviting anyone to people-watch. The interior of her apartment was cozy, not opulent or over the top, but – again – nice. So nice in fact that even he could discern that her furniture and interior harmonized so effortlessly that this had been done professionally. The raging anger in the pit of his stomach at his weakness to curb his own urges only intensified – she was  _ sheltered _ . And being the horrible monster that he was, he was taking advantage of her.

His train of thought came to a screeching halt when she wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him – it was soft, almost shy. She wasn’t used to the dynamics of adult relationships yet, the comfort that came with sharing intimacy, but what she lacked in experience she made up with confidence and bravery, crossing this forbidden line with him. 

Bulma's body was soft and tight – young - he reminded himself disapprovingly, kissing her back and picking her up despite red flags rising in his mind, carrying her through her open bedroom door nonetheless. They settled into soft velvet sheets, too many blankets and pillows on her generous bed, him above her, as their kisses turned more heated. His cock was already hard – he had tried everything, jerking off, working himself to the brink of exhaustion in the gym, and then, desperately and at the edge of madness he had found himself milking his cock again in the private shower. Yet – here he was. Risking his career. Tumbling into what could only end in disaster with a girl he had no business kissing.  _ No business wanting to fuck her this badly. _

She was grinding against his knee balanced between her soft tights, her skin subtle beneath his rough palms as he sucked on the skin of her neck, his hands hugging hips that seemed too curvy and shapely to belong to a girl her age. His fingers explored the soft expanse of her stomach underneath the University hoodie, pushing it up against her chest to focus his attentions on the creamy skin there, the blue-haired temptress softly moaning above him in excited, inexperienced, enjoyment. After scrapping his teeth against her ribs and making her giggle his lips found her mouth again, the force of her hips grinding against his knee increased immediately and Vegeta found himself tucking on the fabric of her top again,

“Is it okay to take this off?” reminding himself to go slow, ignore the aching throb between his legs _.  _

Bulma nodded her agreement immediately, extracting her tongue from his mouth long enough to peel off the fabric between them, discarding it onto the bedroom floor, uncaring where it landed. Her hands immediately found his neck again and she pulled his lips down to hers with surprising force, effectively depriving him of the sight he thirsted to drink in. Giving her one soft kiss he drew back, sitting up to properly admire the young lithe body sprawled out beneath him – she did not wear a shirt, or a bra for that matter – giving him an unrestricted view of her breast.  _ They were fucking perfect.  _ Just enough to fill his palms, perky, with small pink nipple that all but begged him to suck and fondle them, his cock was painfully hard, and he let his head fall in his neck, exhaling a cursed  _ fuck _ trying to reign his control.

Looking back down at the vision that made him throw all caution to the wind he found she had lowered her eyes, glancing anywhere but him, as a deep blush spread across her cheeks – this had nothing to do with arousal, but insecurity and shame..? That would not do. Rough palms glided over he bent knees, appreciating the contrast of his dark skin against her pale tights.

“Bulma, look at me” Vegeta wasn’t good at things that involved talking about feelings, but he did his best to sound reassuring, softly squeezing one of her legs to emphasize, “Baby look at me”. It was an order, caring but stern. She was  _ fucking flawless _ – she was not going to be shy and ashamed.

Blue orbs finally lifted to face him, uncertainty swimming in their depth as he was reminded of her inexperience.

“You are fucking perfect”, he grazed his rock hard crotch barely contained by his sweat against her leg for emphasis, her eyes grew round in surprise, as he balanced over her with one hand, the other tracing over her exposed skin, her stomach, her waist, “there is nothing shameful in what we do together” –  _ he was such a fucking liar, he was a professor on the verge of fucking a student –  _ Bulma inhaled with excitement as his fingers traced the underside of her tits, nodding her head at Vegetas word, “you tell me if something doesn’t feel good and we’ll stop” at that he looked at her, forcing his gaze from her nipples, making sure she truly understood, “I’m not going to do something you don’t want”.

Blue bangs fell over her eyes as she nodded her assent, pulling him down by his thin martial arts jacket, fusing their lips together and grinding against him with renewed vigor. Vegeta groaned, lips latching onto a pert peak as his hands feverishly traveled all over her, Bulma smelled divine, a mix of coconut lotion and flowery fresh soap, by the time his hand was rubbing at her most private parts through the fabric of her shorts Vegeta was doing everything he could to not lose control right then.

In the end, it was Bulma who tucked at his jacket and t-shirt before boldly discarding her shorts, the moment of breathless stillness as her blue orbs held his gaze and she spread her legs for him with a determined look despite the deep blush on her face was charged with an overload of arousal, enough to almost make him whimper. 

Her folders were incredibly hot and soft as his fingers rubbed over her most private part gauging her reaction, clinging to his shoulders, her eyes, big and blue, glued to his face as he lazily circled her clit for the first time, immediately her breath hitched and her small fingers dug into his skin. Vegeta found himself humming approvingly at how wet and responsive she was, it only took a few minutes before she rolled her hips into his touch, hiding her face in his neck as she moaned. Coated in her slickness his fingers ventured lower, pressing over her opening in sweeping motions while watching her intensely, the blue-head extracted her face from his neck just enough to find his eyes, fingers curling tight into his skin.

“Only if you want to”.

_ He was dying to sink his fingers into her, feel if she was as soft inside as she was outside. _

Bulma nodded, the blush of inexperience back on her cheeks.

“Say it”.

_ No hesitation _ . “Please, I want you to”.

One single digit sunk home. She gasped at the intrusion in innocent wonder while he ground his cock into the mattress – anything for some friction, for some relief. _ No matter how minimal _ . Sliding in and out carefully, watching for her enjoyment it didn’t take long before Bulma was begging for more – he worked another digit in - reeling at how tight she was, how her little pussy hugged his two fingers.

Leaving a trail of wet open-mouthed kisses Vegeta worked his way to her center, tongue finally pressing against her sweet folds – it took little more than a few swipes of his tongue and a soft suckling of her clit for Bulma's legs to shudder and her small hands to burry into his wild hair. Grabbing her by the hip as she arched into his mouth Vegeta found himself growling in approval, she fell apart under him, abandoning all reservations, chasing her pleasure with refreshing recklessness born from the thrill of the unknown.

Legs trembling, hips bucking he knew she was nearing her peak, his efforts redoubled as small fingers suddenly pulled at his hair with astonishing force.

" _ Please... _ Vegeta, I want more - I want you inside me"

His thoughts were whirling, freehand tugging down his sweats, as the last threats of sanity kicked in; "Do you have condoms?".  
_ Because I had sworn to myself this wouldn't happen - so I didn't bring any. _

She bit her lip, "...no".

_ Fuck.  _

_ Reckless abandon. _

"Are you on birth control?"

Another no. The look on her face told Vegeta that what she was going to suggest next was a bad idea - and she knew it.

"You could always... _ you know. _ ..pull out?"

He could. Gods he could. It would be so fucking easy. In the next two-second, he could be inside that snug little pussy of hers, he could enjoy the tight heat of her skin, the pleasure of sinking his bare cock into a wet hole. 

Leaning over her he shook his head, two fingers still buried inside her as his palm now rubbed against her clit, Bulma whimpered, fingers wrapped in his hair, riding the edge of her coming orgasm as she begged for him in careless neediness. 

Vegeta kissed her temple, sharing her frustration, but pregnancy was not something he was willing to risk.  _ His career? Apparently less precious.  _ Pressing another kiss to sweaty bangs he watched her skin flush red, she was close,  _ so close,  _ Bulma just needed a little push.

"Next time" he heard himself growl, petite fingers digging into his skin, her walls started to quiver around his digits, "I'll fuck that tiny pussy of yours baby".

Bulma shattered around him. Blue hair clinging to flushed and sweaty skin as her folds milked his fingers, repeating his name in a breathless moaning mantra as he rubbed her through her climax till her legs stop trembling and she opened her eyes again. 

"Kami that was amazing", her voice exhausted as if she had just run a mile, he felt himself chuckle against her lithe frame, her next words made him curse his own horniness, "You mean it - there's a next time?"

_ Don't fucking agree! This should have never happened in the first place!  _

_ ".... _ yes..".

* * *

_to be continued ..._


	5. The Infirmary

Prompt 5: The Infirmary

* * *

The stacks on his desk were arranged systematically, organized by class and grade, his students had worked hard and this semester the mid-term grades had improved in comparison to the previous year - something he should be delighted by, instead, Vegeta was pissed. Finishing meant he was officially out of excuses to stay away from  _ her _ \- a feat that had been excruciatingly difficult, not as hard and throbbing as his cock whenever he thought of her, but harder than it should have been nonetheless. He had lasted exactly fifteen pitiful and agonizing days. She was 12 years his senior and his student, grading Bulma's papers had been challenging, another stinging reminder of his failure - these rules were in place for a reason. He didn’t know for certain that he had given her the A because her coursework and exam were outstanding, or because the memory of his fingers in her soft pink pussy was. Her big round eyes and petite frame tugged at the reigns of his control while her youth and reckless inexperience fueled his propensity for being in charge, for being the curator, for holding the power, for being the more experienced one, the  _ mentor _ . Bulma had no experience with these games, with games that weren’t really games at all, the consequences too real as they both had crossed the line in her apartment. 

It didn’t matter. None of it did. He wasn’t a good man. Vegeta knew he should have ended it right there, never return to her apartment - but he was a greedy monster, so none of it mattered. 

Because here he was, covering her lithe form with his own body, kissing her lips with bruising force, exploring her soft curves with rough palms and all but dry-humping her with a desire that bordered on madness. Her moans were soft addicting little sounds pulling him deeper into the darkness of the taboo, soothing the searing anger in his gut, the searing outrage at his own actions, at the power she held over him as she rolled her pantie-clad hips against the crotch of his jeans. The Sunday afternoon sun sprinkling the walls of her bedroom in soft hues as her fingers danced over the bare skin of his arms, she had opened the door for him in nothing but a pair of panties and a tank top - and his fuses had blown. They were on the bed in a mad dash, kissing, sucking, rubbing and grinding against each other as the moisture seeped through the fabric of her underwear.

The ripping sound as the flimsy piece of lace tore in half, accompanied by her female squeak of surprise, made his pride swell, fingers gliding over her soaked folds. 

“Yes” her voice a strained moan as his eyes found her face, “I want it”. She was a quick learner, didn’t need reminding that in order for him to proceed she needed to give verbal consent. 

His finger sunk into her with a hiss, the heat surrounding the digit spreading like wildfire through his limbs, one quickly became two and with the aid of his tongue, Bulma was soon clawing at his hair, her hips bucking into his face as she chased the still novel sensation of an orgasm brought on by someone other than herself. 

Fingers still between her thighs, rubbing soothing circles over the smooth flesh, he leaned over her to kiss her, luxuriating in the sweetness of her mouth, the eagerness with which she kissed him back, his cock throbbing against the mattress, weeping for relief as the condom he had brought burned a hole into the back pocket of his jeans. 

Nimble fingers explored his zipper, cheeks still flushed and eyes glazed in the afterglow of her release, Bulma's petite digits found his aching cock, boldness in her movements as she reached for it for the first time, the strangled moan that escaped into the crock of her neck seemed to spur her on further, fumbling with the buttons and tucking down. 

_ The last barrier. The one-act they hadn’t committed yet. The one rule they hadn’t broken. _

His mind was screaming at him to stop as he tugged down the denim, encouraging Bulma to shed her flimsy tank top till she was sprawled out before him in all her naked glory, pink lips glistening with the moisture of her earlier release, as his member strained against his boxers. Small fingers found him through the fabric, feeling and softly squeezing experimentally, the last veneer of his discipline cracked, reaching to pull himself free, grasping her delicate hand and wrapping it around his cock, showing her just how he liked it, moaning at the way her eyes sparkled and breathing accelerated.  _ She was turned on. _

“Sleep with me”. A breathless request, hips already tilting to seek his hand for more.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to....”

“I want to” blue hair sprawled around her like a halo, “Please Vegeta”

Pulling the condom from his discarded jeans, he leaned over her, kissing her deeply, cradling her face in his palms and settling himself between her soft spread legs. When he had returned here, Vegeta had promised himself that this had nothing to do with attachment, it would only complicate things further, but the way his breath hitched every time her hands trailed over his skin and his flesh broke out into goosebumps whenever she sobbed his name and came on his fingers - he knew there was nothing he could deny her. 

She was still soaked from their activities moments ago and he pulled back just enough to open the wrapper of the condom when her small hand encircled his wrist. He quirked an eyebrow at the embarrassed flush that spread across her face, blue orbs suddenly focused on her desk on the opposite side of the room, following her gaze he spotted what looked suspiciously like a 3-D printed model of some sorts.

“It’s the infirmary” she explained, more confident talking about her creation before segueing into what she really wanted to say, “I got the idea when I went to the Doctor after ...you and I saw each other last...like.. _ this _ ”, finally her eyes found his, his cock already twitching with a sense of foreboding, she hesitated only for a short breath before pushing forward, “I’m on birth control now, we don’t need  _ that _ ”.

_ Kami fucking help him. _

“...that would be really reckless…” the excuse was weak - he was  _ too _ eager. The possibility of sinking into her bare, of touching every inch of her, it was a siren song he couldn’t resist.

“I trust you”. _ You shouldn't. I am a monster.  _

Vegeta kissed her again, deep and long, till she was mewling putty in his hands, grinding herself eagerly against his cock, his fingers ran her wetness along his hard shaft, working her open with his digits to make sure the act was as pleasurable as possible for her.

Lined up with her entrance he paused, cradling her face in his hands, relishing the feel of her small palms around his wrists, heat pooling low in his abdomen at what he was about to do. 

“If you don’t like it or it hurts, tell me” she nodded and he kissed her between the brows, the skin there soft and delicate, humming, “and I’ll stop”.  _ I’ll try and be worthy of your trust. _

Bulma's smooth breasts pressed against the hard planes of his pectorals as he pushed forward incrementally, straining under the tightness of her heat, fighting to keep his eyes on her, this close to her face, he could see her emotions play out across delicate features, pupils dilating at the new sensation. When her brows pinched at the pressure of intrusion Vegeta forced himself to pause once he had worked himself just past the tip.

“Do you want to stop?” 

Bulma only whimpered, eyes shut as her lip was captured between white and pearly teeth, his thumbs stroked her cheeks, pressing soft caresses against the skin there, “use your words baby” he encouraged and she breathed a soft and quiet no. Reassured he pressed forward again, slow and steady, feeling her give way around him to accommodate his thickness, his breath catching in his throat at the rawness of the moment until his hips sat flush against her own, below him, Bulma faintly whimpered.

“It hurts”

His hand brushed back her bangs, studying her intently, “Do you want me to pull out? We can stop”

Bulma shook her head, scrunching her nose in a disgustingly adorable way, “No”. He pressed his lips to her temple humming low in his throat.

“I won’t move” he promised, tasting her skin, “you’ve been such a good girl so far baby” he encouraged her. Freeing one hand from her face Vegeta let it travel, over her arm, the soft expanse of her side, the back of her leg to the swell of her lush ass, exploring skin with feathering touches until the pad of his thumb pressed against her clit, tight slow circles eliciting faint mewls from Bulma as he held himself still, cock throbbing within her tight heat.

“You don’t have to do anything, let me take care of you”. 

It wasn’t long before the young girl sobbed, asking him in gasps to please start moving, Vegeta set a slow rhythm, only drawing out a few inches before thrusting back in, mindful of her first encounter. Her pussy was magic, the skin clasping his cock in the snuggest grip he had ever experienced, making sweat pool down his spin and his vision swim, he could have spent eternity between her legs. 

His palms cradled her face, noses soft rubbing against another with each slow thrust, drinking in her delicate gasps as her eyes found his wide with wonder at the new sensation.

When her brows furrowed in the slightest hitch of on-setting discomfort he spilled himself inside her, ignoring his mind screaming at his own stupidity, deciding that prolonging the experience wouldn’t help her pleasure. It was glorious nonetheless and not even the aching of his drained balls could stop him from eagerly wishing for another round. 

Still nestled between her legs her held her tight, Bulma's face rested in the crook of his neck as he softly sucked the skin over her collarbone.

"You did so good baby"

“I’m sorry I didn’t cum” she sounded disappointed in herself. 

“There will be none of that” his voice was rough from moaning, “there is nothing to be sorry about, it’s pretty normal not to cum the first time” thick fingers threaded into her hair, tugging back to see her face, “if anything  _ I am _ sorry that it hurt”.

She bit her lip, nodding nonetheless, accepting his words.

When he pulled out, she winced, and the only thing Vegeta could think of to calm the raging madness inside of him was to pick her up and carry her to the bathroom, filling her generous tub with warm water, wondering silently to himself just what the fuck he had gotten them both into. 

* * *

_to be continued ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter updates will slow - I apologize. Work was hectic these past few months.  
> The remaining chapters are outlined and will be my priority to finish.
> 
> In the meantime you can read Royal Punishment for more morally conflicting smut.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I would love feedback if you wish to share it :)


	6. The Lab

Prompt 6: The Lab

* * *

_ “Come over badman” _

She giggled to herself as she sent the text, coveralls slung low on her hips, she knew Vegeta hated the nickname she had chosen for him but to his never-ending annoyance, she found his exasperation and the faces he made cute. So he had to deal. 

It had been months since they started this forbidden dance, and she had been on a journey of exploration with her former professor. The day his class concluded in a difficult final was a bittersweet moment, the following semesters she had chosen different lectures, careful to avoid any subject taught by him - easing his self-loathing for fucking her, his student - repeatedly - had been the main objective of the shift. It seemed to have worked, at least to some degree, while always reserved for the weekends his time with her had grown in quality, staying for the night, making breakfast together, watching documentaries, although always in the privacy of their respective apartments - never, ever, in public.

Today was the first day she even invited him to Capsule Corp. her parents were gone for a long weekend at a research conference, although she was sure they would not have cared, and she wanted to show him her newest project in the lab. 

Ok - maybe, just maybe, she wanted to fuck his brains out too.

Bulma loved the way his muscles rippled under taut skin, how sweat would slick his spine, how hoarse his voice sounded when he came - quite possibly she had become addicted to Vegeta Ouji - her phone chimed, pulling her out of her musings.

_ “At practice till 8pm”  _

The blue-head often joked that martial arts was his mistress, a sport Vegeta excelled at to a degree that she repeatedly wondered why he had never picked it up professionally. She would have paid a few pretty Zeni to watch him fight in an octagon - all sweaty and raw.

_ “ WST 3338926 K. See you after ;) “ _

For a moment she was nervous texting him her address, never had they discussed who her father was or the wealth she came from, there were moments when Bulma was unsure if Vegeta even knew - inviting him over to her lab broke the carefully drawn lines they had established throughout their controversial relationship.

It was already dark out when Vegeta appeared in her laboratory, guided there by an overly eager employee not minding the late-night work. He was breathtaking. Over the past summer his skin had taken on a golden hue of bronzed perfection and he was still slightly damp from the shower he had clearly taken after his workout. The gravity-defying spikes of his hair were coarse and thick, and Bulma tangled her fingers in them with bliss, pulling him down for a kiss as he protested weakly; trying to take in all that was her private lab.

Vegeta carefully untangled himself from her, disapproving of displays of affection outside of the bedroom, the fascination on his face as he rounded her small-scale prototype made up for the small sting of rejection felt. Adjusting her coveralls Bulma followed after him, around the machinery and tools to the walls of her blueprints he was currently examining with a mix between scrutiny and wonder. The dark workout pants he still wore wrapped his ass like the most delectable treat and she had to bite her lip just thinking about the way those buttocks flexed when he pounded into her.

“These are very detailed” he observed the measurements and mathematics that had already been done, Bulma stood next to him, humming in agreement, preening under his praise and relishing the heat of his body, her shoulder brushing his, eyes following the line of his sight. Vegeta was right, the blueprints were outstanding. The Capsule Corp. engineering department had been a helpful resource when it had come to finalizing details. 

“It’s just a small scale prototype now” she gestured to the beginnings of her station behind them in the large lab, “it’s mainly to test if the material will shield inhabitants from the radiation of space effectively”. 

His eyes slid over to regard her directly, the darkness of his irises always made her breath catch in her throat and her stomach squeeze low, they were like endless pools promising to drown her, “We are playing a very dangerous game Bulma” displeasure at his own actions was clear on his face now, brows drawn tight, “not just with your dream but also with your father's reputation”.

She hummed low in her throat acknowledging his words, they did this dance a lot, walking the line of reckless fucking in abandon of all rules and dealing with Vegetas self-loathing and his compunctions about consequences and morality. Wrapping herself around him, nuzzling the underside of his strong jaw, tracing her tongue along freshly showered skin she did her best to soothe him, already relishing the rough sex that was going to follow whenever he toed the line of calling them a mistake.

“I’m not your student anymore - I haven't been in a long time - and I am almost done”, she tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, “relax, we’ve been very discrete”.

Finally, his head turned to meet her face on, his lips capturing hers in a heated kiss, tongue wrapping around hers in a battle for dominance as his hand slid into her hair, holding her in place while he deepened the kiss till Bulma thought she was going to drown. 

Stepping back until her back touched her prototype Bulma pulled him with her, molding her lips to his and then slowly sinking to her knees in front of him. Vegeta was already hard underneath his workout pants, and she relished how he hissed as she palmed him through the material, fingers sliding upward underneath his hoodie, appreciative of the deep ridges of his abdomen and hooking her fingers in the waistband on her journey back down.

His hand slid into her hair again as he sprang free, thick and hard and wanting, while Vegeta's other hand came to rest against the hull of her prototype, sheltering her with the warmth of his body.

“Bulma”

His name from her lips sounded like a reverent prayer, moisture pooling between her legs as she wrapped her hand around him, softly pressing her lips to the muscles of his upper thigh, cooing at him while her hand worked the tension from his body the best way she knew how. 

The first swipe of her tongue along his twitching underside was accompanied by a deep low moan, the fingers in her hair drawing her closer almost reflexively as the blue head took her time teasing him. When she finally took him into her mouth, massaging the head with her lips, letting her tongue play with the small opening, her pride soared at the strangled cry that escaped him, body leaning closer to push himself further into the warm moist heat she provided. 

For a long time, the only sounds in her laboratory were Vegeta's choked moans and wet noises as she worked to take him as deep as possible, the rough palm cradling her cheek his reassuring and comforting show of praise, that spurred her on further, working him with her mouth till tears streamed down her face and the soft thrusting of his strong hips sent the foreboding message of his impending orgasm.

His legs shook with the effort to hold back but Bulma was determined to break through his barriers - and his iron discipline. When he came down her throat, a sweaty brow pressed against the cool hull of her ship, shaking and groaning, holding her head against his hips till his cock stopped twitching, she could barely contain the smile that formed on her lips, by the time he would be ready for round two she would be begging for mercy for making him fall apart this way. Vegeta loved control, and whenever she challenged it Bulma ended up a sobbing mess in her sheets. 

She stood, wiping ear face clean, while Vegeta tucked himself back into his sweats, adjusting the waistband of his pants, his face more relaxed and serene than the brooding frown he had worn when coming into her laboratory and connecting the pieces of who she really was. Glancing at her own dirty coveralls Bulma extended her hand to him, giddiness flooding her and threatening to split her face in half with the smile that wanted to burst free as he took her hand - with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

“Ready for a shower badman?” 

* * *

_to be continued ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience - I know this took some time.  
> I will finish this story, work is currently just very draining.


	7. The Training Facility

Prompt 7 : The Training Facility  


* * *

His muscles ached and screamed, having pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion in the expansive training facility the university provided to all its students and faculty. It was one of the perks of being a professor at a school famous for nurturing young athletic talents, the free gym was state of the art and usually abandoned on late Friday nights. The students he taught partying in their dorms while getting ready to hit the clubs in the buzzing bright streets of downtown, thinking about alcohol and their next lay, rather than sweating away the tension of the week. Vegeta liked it that way - the mixture of solitude and hard work till his muscles tremble always seemed to curb the burning flames of self-loathing that had taken a hold of him, made a home inside of the very place his soul should have been while he willingly scorched in the flames, addicted to the very source of all this misery.

He was among the youngest professors at the university, published in a variety of esteemed and respected magazines, but his success had come at a price, a price he had always paid by himself, dragging one of his former students, someone young and innocent, into the darkness of his life was wrong. For a long time, he had told himself that he could keep the two halves separated, indulge everything that Bulma offered - the softness of her skin, the light of her smile, the mewling whimpers of their intimacy - and pay the dues for his world-class education and success - the student loan money he owed the Colds, the jobs they made him do on the side. Whenever it was just the two of them, just him and Bulma, he truly believed it was possible, self-loathing curled tight in his abdomen with the knowledge that it was the addicting softness of her pussy, the desperate cling of her small hands, the eagerness of her young mouth that had captivated him, making him susceptible to her smart wit and humor till he could no longer disentangle himself from the sea of blue she had seized him in. 

But Dodoria had seen him, had observed his patterns and undoubtedly reported to Zarbon who had put two and two together - Vegeta Ouji was banging the heiress to the richest company in the world who happened to be his former student, still enrolled in the university at which he taught.

The Colds had drastically increased the interest on his payments, demanding he find a way to dip into the Briefs fortune to prevent exposure, to lose his job, to ruin his reputation and sully the Briefs name.

His knees felt weak, water beating hot against his neck and he rested his head against the cool tile of the shower rooms, another pleasant side effect of training so late - privacy in the bathing area after a long and hard workout. Wet fingers slipped into soft hair as the woman between his legs swallowed him whole, having surprised him after his workout, eager and willing to work the only muscle that was reserved for outside the training facilities. She had been doing that a lot lately, eagerly milking him with her mouth, sucking the tensions right out of his very soul with each swipe of her clever tongue and being the selfish monster that he was Vegeta let her. Let her suckle and lick his cock till he strained and moaned, let her engulf his length till tears streamed down her cheeks and she hummed around him as he worked himself in her mouth, let her swallow every drop this his balls ached for rest, let her do anything she tried to ease his own struggles so he wouldn’t have to talk to her about them. _Wouldn’t have to talk to her._

Each time it happened he promised himself that it would be the last time. 

Each time she came on his cock with heated wails and strangled cries he wished for more. 

Below him Bulma worked him, oblivious to his internal struggle, each caress, each lick exactly how he liked it - she had mastered the art of taking him to the edge, of forcing him to surrender in her mouth, but today, under the spray of hot water, in such a _public_ place, Vegeta had different plans.

He lifted her by her arms, her body light as a feather, her skin tight and young, long legs eagerly wrapping around his hips as her back settled against the wet tiles, the head of his cock nudged her small lips and Vegeta had to bit his tongue from moaning - this was his favorite moment, the moment he first breached her, the first slide into tight wet heat, her first breathless gasp as she stretched around him.

Gravity pushing him deep inside her wet core, burying his face in the crook of her neck, recklessly indulging in all that she had to offer, breaking his own rule of never, e _ver,_ luxuriating in the young girl in public. The spray of the water, warm and soothing, her noises spurring him own, ignoring the aching of his overworked muscles as he selfishly chased release between her shapely legs. Lips capturing and sucking, swallowing their moans Vegeta was about to tip over the edge when the door to the changing room creaked loudly - freezing him mid-thrust. His hand covered Bulma's mouth almost reflexively while his heart suddenly seemed to be beating in his throat, large blue orbs filled with panic as they both observed a pair of sneakers from underneath the shower curtain. 

The opening of a locker, the drag of fabric, the start of water rushing in the neighboring stall - he instinctively lowered the blue head, making sure Bulma wasn't visible over the divider that separated the stalls, her lips pressing against the crook of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him tightly - the moment dragged on forever, his mind's eye already running through the scenario of what was to happen if they were discovered when a voice broke the silence;

"Late night workout Mr. Ouji?"

_Zarbon._

_Vegeta felt like vomiting._

"Yes". Bulma's head snapped up, her eyes urging him to say more appear unbothered and nonchalant - she had no idea who was on the other side, grinding his molars he tried to think of something else to say, but Zarbon continued,

"I don't blame you - it would be a shame not to take advantage of the situation."

His arms flexed around Bulma, cock still buried inside of her folds - _he was such a fucking idiot_.

The shower cut off, making Vegeta wonder if Zarbon actually stepped under the spray, the sounds of fabric, the clicking of a locker and then steps filled the room, as he stood there, naked and wet, exposed and caught, trapped like a fool under the spray of water.

The door creaked again and Zabron's voice floated through them under the spray of the water that was beginning to run cold.

"See you around Mr. Ouji!"

A heartbeat, then two and he set Bulma down, her breathing now harsh and panting at the adrenaline of almost being caught, her eyes sparkled and Vegeta knew there was a quick-witted quip on the tip of her tongue - she had no idea the danger she was in.

Vegeta turned, not bothering to turn off the water, to indulge in her humor or explain to her what happened, he hastily rubbed himself down with a towel, forcing the fabric of his jeans and shirt over still-damp skin, ignoring the woman's escalating please for him to slow down and explain his sudden shift in mood, he needed to get ahead of this before it escalated before something happened and his recklessness would cost him his career or Bulma's safety. 

He was already halfway to the door when he stopped, so far he had ignored her, knowing damn well it would destroy him, but there was no way around it, he should have never had allowed it to start, to continue, to become something he craved, something he valued - with a deep breath her turned around and looked at her.

 _Really_ looked _at_ her.

She was perfect, naked and wet, blue hair clinging to her skin, big eyes the same impossible shade filled with worry and confusion - the words on the tip of his tongue, he braced for impact, leaving her with the devastating silence that followed.

" _We are fucking done!"_

* * *

_to be continued ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a reason for this madness ;)
> 
> Thank you for your patience and for reading!


	8. Prompt 8: The Air-Lock Hatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait.  
> This pandemic has me so incredibly busy all time has lost it's meaning.
> 
> I hope you and your loved ones are staying safe and sane.

Prompt 8: The Air-Lock Hatch

* * *

The convention center was bustling with life, scientists, photographers, and spectators alike mingling in the large space, enjoying the sun that shone through the large floor to ceiling windows, bathing her creation in bright light. The speeches had been given, the conferences were over - this was an opportunity for everyone to inspect the fruits of labor that came with hard work and ingenuity only lectured about in the halls of pristine universities or elite conferences. Her feet ached in the confines of her heels, but Bulma paid little mind, this was the last steppingstone before launching her creation commercially. Years of hard work and tears, of sweat and doubt and the will to succeed, had paid off. It had been a decade since she started this journey - dreamed up the first unsteady lines of her station in crowded lecture halls, before pouring her heart into prototypes and test runs, meeting failure and struggle at every turn as she reached for the stars. 

Today, just a few days shy of turning 28, she was taking the last hurdle on her journey to space. The conference had secured the last necessary investors to boost her budget and Capsule Corp. stock would be skyrocketing in the morning once the markets opened for the day. 

Sipping on her club soda, she never drank during business-related events, she felt someone slide up behind her and it took everything in her to not give an exhausted huff - she had already spent hours with the press - before turning around to ask the stranger for a few minutes of privacy and peace only to come face to face with a man she had not seen in years.

The scientist's heart was hammering in her chest, Vegeta looked to die for, dark, brooding and muscular like she remembered him, not a day over 35, even though she logically knew he must be a lot older than that now, his early 40ties if she wasn't mistaken. With the wave of excitement also came a wave of hurt - he had walked out of her life that night in the showers and she had never seen him again. Her teenage self had been crushed, Bulma had spent months crying and moping, mourning her first heartbreak who now stood less than a foot away, dark tailored suit and expensive shoes, regarding her with deep eyes as if a decade hadn't passed.

"What are you doing here Vegeta?" her voice sounded rigid even to her own ears, but he had no business breaking her heart and then showing up, all dark and handsome, as if nothing had ever happened between them.

His lips curled in a smirk, and Bulma's heart ached in her chest, the ice cubes in his drink softly crinkled against the glass as he motioned to the expanse of the venue, "I came to see the unveiling of your final model".

"Since when do you care about my projects.. or me!?"

Dark eyes examined his drink as the meaning of her words settled between them, but when he finally looked up his gaze was smoldering with an intensity she could not place.

"You got the deal of a lifetime for the hydraulics in your Air-Lock Hatch".

Her brows knitted, "How do you know that?". Nobody outside of Capsul Corp. knew that her head of research and development had gotten a steal unprecedented in company history. 

"The Hydraulics are made by Saiyan Industries".

Like that told her anything. "I am aware of that, but that doesn't explain how you know", his brow rose at her words, "unless..." she trailed off as Vegeta took a small sip of his drink. 

"YOU own Saiyan Industries!" he chuckled at the accusatory tone of her voice as she put the pieces together, handing his empty glass to a waitress Vegeta stepped closer, the hair humming between them as his eye drank her in, tight black pencil skirt and matching blazer with a coral blouse that stood in stark contrast to her blue hair, tamed into a sleek bob. 

"Success looks good on you".

"You are not forgiven."

Vegeta only hummed in contemplation at her words and Bulma wanted to scream at him. She had looked for him everywhere in the beginning - social media sites and public records, other Universities faculty pages, and scientific magazines - it had been like her first in everything had vanished. After a while, she had given up, resigned herself to never knowing, and moved on with her life. She dated nice boys and married her work, meanwhile, she now realized, Vegeta had been watching her, hidden in the shadows of his own empire - supporting her success without every reaching out, ever soothing her hurt. 

When he leaned in closer so only she would hear him, breath ghosting over the shell of her ear, Bulma had to fight the urge to squirm, 

"Eat dinner with me" the palm of his hand softly cupped her elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze, "let me try to explain".

Bulma looked decidedly past him, Vegeta had walked out of her life, he had made a choice - was she ready to forgive? Was she ready to potentially open herself to more heartache? Sensing her indecision Vegeta stepped back, the sudden distance between them felt cold as his hands disappeared into the pockets of his expensive pants.  _ Why did he have to look so good?! _

Surveying the venue and the crowd her former professors' eyes settled on her, being scrutinized by his dark gaze was like being set on fire in the most pleasant way, he clicked his teeth before settling her indecision.

"I'll send a car for you at 8. If you get in, we'll have dinner and I'll try to explain, and if you don't, I won't bother you again".

Vegeta turned on his heels and walked away, pearly teeth worried her plum lower lip watching his backside stride away and Bulma wondered if he was once again walking out of her life, or back into it. It was up to her.

* * *

Her dark heels click on the smooth concrete of Capsule Corp. driveway, distressed jeans sliding over the smooth leather of the luxurious car Vegeta had sent for her, tugging her tailored blazer close over her white snug shirt Bulma hoped that she wasn't under-dressed for wherever they were going - after the long day she had the scientist just wanted to be as comfortable as possible. 

What Bulma did not expect was the car to pull up in front of a sleek downtown highrise apartment complex, being ushered inside and onto the elevator only for polished dark doors to open into the foyer of a posh apartment. Soft music was drifting from further inside the penthouse, overlooking the city and her heels clicked on the smooth floors, Bulma almost jumped in surprise when Vegeta suddenly rounded the corner to meet her. 

Dressed in comfortable jeans and a grey shirt himself - at the sight of her, Vegeta turned away letting his head fall into his neck and clicking his teeth before facing her again.

"You look phenomenal". 

She eyed his attire, "Clearly I am overdressed".

At that he only laughed, a deep laugh, coming from deep within his chest so genuine and unguarded that it made her stomach squeeze in memory. 

"I asked you to eat with me" gesturing back towards the living area Bulma followed him, spotting a kitchen on her left and a sprawling living room on her right, but it was the balcony straight ahead, overlooking the city lights, doors open for the soft breeze that caught her attention, "I never said I'd take you out. Do you want wine?" Vegeta called from the kitchen as she stepped outside.

"Yes, I like Red. Expensive".

The view was magnificent, the evening sky a fiery spectacle of colors, and as Vegeta stepped up behind her with a large glass of red wine the heat of his body against her own was comforting. As she sipped the contents of her drink his nose drew up the side of her neck, breath hot against the shell of her ear.

"You smell good"

Her stomach clenched.

"We shouldn't do this"

Vegeta only hummed, large palms coming to rest on her hips as he trapped her between his own body and the railing "Tell me to stop".

_ Silence. _

Lips pressed against her neck, warm palms explored the inside of her tighs, playing with the distressed material of her jeans, the tingle of pleasure that shot up her spine as she felt his hardness press into her tight rear should have been illegal. The glass of expensive wine in her hand anchoring her upright as he undid the button of her jeans and snuck a strong hand inside, fingers landing with devilish precision like no time had passed.

Her back arched, she moaned, his other arm around her slim waist steadied her as Vegeta set a rhythm - tight fast circles, right where she liked them, where she  _ needed  _ them. Bulma was soaked in minutes, his hot mouth gently nipping, kissing and sucking behind her ear, the junction of her neck, everywhere she missed his touch. His voice deep and reassuring in her ear, spurring her on, her hips rolled before she knew what was happening, freehand twisted in his dark hair and legs feeling shaky and wobbly as she came - release washing over her like she had not experienced it in years. 

Hot and flushed Bulma was still catching her breath when her former professor zipped her jeans back up, turning her around and running his fingers through her short hair as if to familiarize himself with its texture once again, his face oddly calm as he took what remained of the wine from her hands.

"We should eat".

* * *

_to be continued ..._

_One more to go :) I hope you enjoyed it_


	9. The Escape Pods

* * *

Bulma swirled the wine in her glass, watching the deep red liquid lick at the pristine thin surface keeping the expensive fluid contained, her own faint reflection glimmering back at her in the soft artificial light of Vegetas dining area.

While he had been a man of his word and told her everything, he had also reminded her of how smart and silver-tongued he could be - Bulma knew that he had omitted multiple cases of felony crimes. The man he owed thousands of dollars, always coming up with new ways to prevent Vegeta from ever truly paying off his debt, surely had not disappeared from his life as easily as Vegeta tried to make her believe. Worrying her lips she tried to decide if  _ truly knowing, _ hearing the very words from his lips instead of trusting her mind to fill the gaps, would make a difference to her.  _ She wondered if it would make her love him any less. _

"How can you be sure that Mr. Frieza won't be coming to look for you again?". _Where is he now?_

Vegeta regarded her silently, the low humming of the dishwasher in the background, cleaning the plates of their meal long consumed, his fingers ran along the stem of his glass, long and elegant, just like her neck. 

"He has moved on to different pastures".  _ He is dead. _

Bulma only nodded at his response, her eyes settling on the cabinets of his kitchen, drawing over the sleek modern design to the art on his walls - anywhere but his face. Her brain mulling over the facts in her head, while only one questioned burned in her mind.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth? I could have helped you pay - there was no need to leave".  _ No need to hurt me like that. _

She heard him chuckle darkly at her question, but she refused to look, even after all these years his eye still threatened to swallow her whole, this was a truth she needed to hear with a clear mind.

"It wasn't your debt to pay." Silence permeated the air and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, he was examining his own glass, eyebrows drawn into a tight frown. "It was dangerous - it could have ruined my life. There was no need to dirty yours too. Your family's name could have been tarnished. Would it have been worth losing the chance of creating all that you have now? The ship? ". The wine made a swooshing sound as he imitated her actions, swirling his own glass. "You were my student Bulma, I had already wronged you by sleeping with you - there was no need to steal your future too".

"That's bullshit Vegeta!" her voice a tick  _ too _ loud "I wanted to sleep with you!"

"And I was still the adult in power with an  _ inclination _ to fuck younger women!".  _ Oh.  _ "Did you really think  _ Baby _ was just a random sort of pet name?!" his voice an angry hiss, thick fingers running through his hair in an exasperated manner as he stood to lean against the kitchen counter, putting some space between them - Bulma swallowed thickly.

She hadn't fully realized that her young age had been part of the turn-on for Vegeta - she had always assumed the forbidden dynamic of student and teacher to be conflicting with her virginity as the dark pull he couldn't resist. Instead, it had been a reckless pursuit of his own kink. 

Anger swelled in her chest as she rose from her seat, "Are you trying to tell me that I am  _ too old  _ for you now!?" her index finger jabbing none too gently against his solid chest "You are a fucking prick!"

In the blink of an eye, he had crowded her against the fridge, grabbing short strands of her hair, forcing her head into her neck while pressing his obvious arousal into her lower belly. Breathing harshly as his lips hovered mere millimeters from her own "You are not too old - you never will be, but you deserved a chance at creating your own future".

Her head swam as her body tingled with traitorous arousal - 10 long years and the effect he had on her had not diminished, on the contrary, it had grown. Even thru the clothes, his body was warm against hers, the skin exposed by the ripped material of her jeans prickled every time he brushed against her.

_ Was she willing to risk another chance? Was she willing to risk another possible heartbreak? _

Fingers twisting in the collar of his shirt, "This time you talk to me - no more running away without a word". 

He chuckled darkly, a rough palm squeezing her hip, pulling her pliable body closer to his own, lips ghosting against her cheekbone with dark promise "no escape pods".

Instead of pressing his lips to hers, Vegeta picked her up like she weighed nothing, large palms cupping her round ass, face buried in her chest as they made their way to his bedroom. Bulma only had a short moment to notice the stunning view and the sleek modern design before Vegeta tossed her on the bed.

Catching her ankle while she was still trying to regain her equilibrium her former professor made quick work of her heels, carelessly dropping the designer pieces onto the floor before standing at the edge of the bed, towering over her splayed out form.

"Clothes off. Now".

She scrambled, hastily pulling the suddenly too-tight fabrics off her long limbs, discarding her jeans, shirt, and underwear with little care to where they landed - black eyes smoldering like embers following her every move, and then  _ finally  _ he lifted his own shirt over his head.

Bulma wanted to gasp as seeking his chiseled body again, her pussy throbbed with senseless need at the mere thought of what she knew would come next - what she had missed for nearly a decade. When Vegeta pushed his boxers down taunt hips the mewl that escaped her at finally seeing his cock again was downright wicked. 

Strong joints found the edge of the mattress as he came closer on all fours, threatening to lean over her, "Knees". The air between them hummed with tension as slender fingers grasped the back of the designated body part, pulling herself open till her knees where on either side of her torso - splayed out for the predator above her. 

His lips descended against her own as his thumb found her clit, drawing a few lazy circles while his cock nudged her wet lips. Their tongues danced, teeth teased soft skin as Bulma tried desperately to wiggle closer to him - a dark smirk against her lips her only indication that Vegeta had noticed.

Rearing back onto his knees he watched her, hands gliding over her body as if they had always been lovers before gripping himself, stroking his own member leisurely before aligning himself with her entrance, freehand coming to softly squeeze her ass.

Eyes dark as night piercing her blue oceans "Tell me what you want baby".

She was already panting, "I want you Vegeta.." throbbing with need, "I want you to fuck me".

The first slow slide was so delicious Bulma wanted to cry, her emotions running high as she gasped wide-eyed, watching those deep pools cloud with lust till his eyes were half-lidded. Every stroke that followed felt better than the one before, Vegetas pace picking up with the rising crescendo of her wails and moans - uncaring and unashamed of who might hear them. His shaft glistened, coated in her arousal as he pushed into her over and over again, each time more unrelenting than the time before, the coil in her stomach tightening, robbing her of precious oxygen while soaring high. 

A thick thumb circling her clit was her undoing, she fell over the edge with a silent cry, her skin feeling hot as she clenched her eyes shut, shaking through her best orgasms in years. By the time she had recovered enough to somewhat calm her raging heart, Vegeta had already collapsed on to of her, hips rolling lazily with the resolve to prolong the pleasure. A hot tongue lazily lapping against the side of her neck as Bulma let go of the back of her knees, wrapping slender long legs around his trim waist.

As the moon illuminated the dark bedroom Bulma nuzzled the side of Vegetas face, placing small kissed against the sharp contours of his jaw before lastly capturing his lips.

"To staying".

She quietly hummed into the space between their lips, his fingers intertwining with hers was the only answer she needed.

* * *

_finished.._

_Thank you for reading & your feedback :)_


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